


Slapdash

by Markovia



Series: A Good Deed [5]
Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Messy, Slice of Life, Smut, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-10 05:00:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11120418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Markovia/pseuds/Markovia
Summary: The informant is incredibly careless when he's comfortable, but Shizuo has an inventive way of making Izaya tidy up after himself.





	Slapdash

**Author's Note:**

> Another one, woo! I promise I'll get to update the longer fics soon, I'm just feeling a little uninspired with them at present.

Living with Izaya is  _ nothing  _ like he imagined. He thought prim, neat, obsessive but fuck no, he’s quite the opposite. Without Namie there to clear up after him every day, Izaya’s junk piles up constantly. Dishes, stacks of papers, half-read books, piles and piles and piles of the same fucking black clothing beside his bed. 

 

Shizuo glares at him from the hallway, arms full of dirty clothes once again. “You're a damn slob, flea.”

 

The informant looks up from his computer. “Fuck off, Shizu-chan. I'm busy.”

 

His mouth is full of instant noodles, as it always is. That's another thing about Izaya that bugs him - he can't cook so he eats nothing but junk food. Shizuo prepares food for them both most nights, having lived by himself for a long time  _ without  _ a personal assistant at his beck and call. He’s so tempted to call Namie and beg her  _ on his fucking knees  _ to move back in with them. It's only pride that stops him doing that. Her shitty smiles are one thing he can do without, he gets enough of them from Izaya. 

 

“No, not fuck off,” the blond replies, voice a rumbling growl. “Put your clothes in the wash-bin. It's easy. It's five steps from where you chuck them on the floor.”

 

Izaya looks up at him with  _ that _ sneer and Shizuo can almost hear his words before they come. “Well, I can't  _ walk _ that far, Shizu-chan. I thought you of all people would have remembered that.”

 

The barb is clear and it still hurts, but he knows that Izaya is being intentionally inflammatory so he ignores him. “Start clearing up after yourself or I'll stop sucking your dick.”

 

A giggle is the only response that comes from across the room so he ignores it and dumps the laundry into the washing machine in the kitchen. Shizuo presses the button to start the machine and leans heavily against the countertop as it whirs into life. Izaya frustrates him to no end, there's a remnant of the anger he used to feel toward him still burning dimly but it's far less fierce, more of an annoyance than full blown rage. He can hear Izaya slurping noodles from the other room and hangs his head. 

 

“Fuckin’ flea,” he growls, low and tired. The blond straightens and walks back into the lounge where he flops down onto the sofa. 

 

“Are you really annoyed about the mess?” Izaya asks, placing the now-empty cup of noodles onto the desk. Shizuo shoots him a glare that’s enough of an answer. Izaya hesitates, dark eyes peering at the agitated man curiously, then he nods his head as if he’s agreeing to some unspoken question. “I'll try harder.”

 

Shizuo raises a brow. “Really?”

 

Izaya nods. “Of course, Shizu-chan.”

 

The blond smiles appreciatively, though this soon turns to a scowl when Izaya reaches forward to push the empty cup noodles onto the floor. His eyes lock onto Shizuo’s and a lazy, nasty grin spreads over his face. 

 

“I'll try harder to piss you off,” he states, voice bubbling with the beginnings of manic laughter. 

 

Shizuo loves that insane man but  _ fuck _ , sometimes he wants to wring his neck. He drags the brunet up but his collar and throws him roughly to the floor. In the first few months of their relationship Shizuo was careful but after Izaya’s pushing he learned not to mind so much. Apparently the informant  _ likes  _ the roughness, despite how uncomfortable it makes him feel. Izaya lets out a tiny gasp as his back collides with the floor but his dark eyes immediately fill with lust as they open to look at Shizuo. The blond growls aggressively as soon as he sees them, his muscles tensing, his mind already hazy with arousal. 

 

“You are-” Shizuo begins. He drops down to his knees and crawls over Izaya, hands on either side of his head. 

 

The informant’s mouth twists and he offers more insults. “A flea? A nuisance? A good for noth-”

 

“You are the sexiest piece of shit I know,” Shizuo finishes, his tone little more than an animalistic snarl. 

 

Izaya still smiles, even as Shizuo leans down to bite at the soft skin of his neck. “Ever the romantic.”

 

Shizuo leans back and his gaze wanders his lover’s face for some truth. The truth has always been hard with Izaya - his job, his life, requires so many lies that the blond often worries that their relationship is just some form of drawn out revenge for what he did to Izaya’s body. If he’s honest, Shizuo thinks he wouldn't begrudge him that.  

 

“ _ We  _ are not romantic,” Shizuo states, leaning down so he can softly bite down on Izaya’s neck. The informant writhes upward, well aware of how his hips grind into Shizuo’s groin as he does. The blond hisses and moves his pelvis down to hold Izaya still, an action which gets him another low chuckle. “You're such a bastard.”

 

Izaya’s mouth spreads out into a toothy smile. “You wouldn't have me any other way.” 

 

“Hmm,” he muses, licking a wet trail along the smaller man’s neck. “Did you not hear me say I’d like you to take better care of yourself?” 

 

“Come now, Shizuo,” Izaya replies, shuddering slightly at the other man’s ministrations. “If I wanted to take better care of myself then I would never have pursued you, would I? You could say the same for yourself.”

 

Teeth graze his neck at that comment but the feeling is pleasant rather than dangerous. Shizuo sits back on his heels so that he can slide his hands beneath Izaya’s t-shirt. The informant sighs softly and his back arches toward his lover as his fingers  trail up his sides. “Mm, you’re right about that.” 

 

“I'm right about everything,” Izaya comments, giving the blond a wink. 

 

It's meant to come across as off-hand and cheeky but due to the way his breath is hitching, his words are too breathy. Shizuo smiles, enjoying that he can have that effect on Izaya. It still surprises him that he’s able to get this close to him after so many years of unsuccessfully chasing him. He berates himself everyday for the shit they had to go through to get to this stage and he thinks Izaya might feel the same. 

 

However, he thinks, as he playfully pinches the pink nubs beneath his fingers.  _ However _ , Izaya is likely to have enjoyed that twisted game they used to play. Shizuo wonders if the man writhing beneath him feels sorry for trying to ruin his life, for trying to kill him. The thought stays with him for a moment but the pink flush across Izaya’s face is distracting and he leans down to suck one of his nipples into his mouth with a clear mind. 

 

“Ngh, fuck-” Izaya groans, hips rolling up against Shizuo’s. He lets out a breathy chuckle and reaches up so he can wind his arms around Shizuo’s neck. “On the floor, Shizu-chan? Such an animal.”

 

“As if you care,” he growls, pulling Izaya’s shirt off entirely. He begins to work on the man’s belt as he continues to suck the sensitive skin beside his right hip into his mouth. The informant shivers and Shizuo leans back, releasing the skin with a pop. He’s losing a bit of composure now, face deeply flushed and mouth hanging agape. “You're always complaining that I’m being too gentle, so shut it.”

 

Izaya laughs lightly, the sound breaking at the end when Shizuo shoves a hand down the front of his undone jeans and palms his cock through his boxers. The blond grins and moves down between the other man's knees so that he can slid his trousers and boxers off and throw them alongside his discarded t-shirt. 

 

“Didn't I say that I was busy?” Izaya teases, raking a hand through Shizuo’s hair as he crawls back up his body. 

 

“Don't care. Do your dirty work later, I'm horny,” he replies, leaning down so that he can kiss along his flat stomach and down past his hips. Izaya’s fingers feel nice in his hair, they’re pleasantly scraping his scalp which sends sparks down his spine. 

 

The informant opens his mouth to speak but his words die in his mouth and twist into a strangled groan when Shizuo’s finger circle the base of his cock so he can hold it upright. He drags his palm up the length and Izaya makes a terribly undignified noise. His hips undulate so Shizuo moves his free hand over the smaller man’s stomach so that he can hold him in place. The hold is appreciated when Shizuo slides his mouth over the head of his cock. Izaya grits his teeth together and clenches his fingers tighter in the blond’s hair. The man’s tongue drags along the vein on the underside of his length as he moves up and down, lips making intentionally obscene slurping noises as he goes. The hand at the base of his cock spans lower so that he can fondle Izaya’s balls - an action he knows will get him a reaction. And oh, what a wonderful reaction it is. Izaya nearly shrieks and bucks as much as he can beneath the weight of the others arm. His back arches off the floor into an uncomfortable position but he’s too far gone to care. Just as the pleasure in his gut is starting to bubble, as the peak nears and Izaya is panting, sweating, leaking with pre-cum - Shizuo removes his mouth and hands and crawls forward over the other man’s torso. 

 

For a moment Izaya just stares up at him in disbelief, a little dazed by the sudden loss of pleasure. Soon his face descends into an unpleasant scowl and a deep red flush spreads over his cheeks. 

 

“What the fuck, Shizu-chan?” he growls, lifting his head slightly. 

 

Shizuo smirks at him and shrugs. “You're not gonna come until you promise to clean up after yourself.”

 

The informant scoffs and starts to move his hands toward his aching cock, which was now an angry looking red. “Fuck you, I'll do it-”

 

“Uh uh,” Shizuo tuts. He grabs Izaya’s hands before they reach the throbbing organ and he pins them to the ground beside his head. Their noses are closer in this position and Shizuo can see every dissatisfied crinkle on the informant’s face. He’s having way too much fun to let Izaya get away easily - this was the perfect opportunity to get the smaller man to be cleaner  _ and  _ for he himself to have a little fun messing around. 

 

“Get off!” Izaya orders, as if he’s still in charge. Shizuo knows that if he were dressed he’d have flicked open a knife and  _ made  _ him continue but that wasn't the case. No, he was stark bollock naked with a weighty monster draped over his torso. He was going nowhere. 

 

“So you want me to get off or get you off?” Shizuo raises a brow. He transfers Izaya’s wrists into one hand and shuffles backward, so that he’s back between his knees. 

 

“I want you to f-” his words are cut off into an angry garble when Shizuo shoves three of his fingers into his mouth and swirls them around his tongue. 

 

“Play nice,” the blond sneers, pulling back his hand. He lowers it between Izaya’s legs and begins to gently circle the puckered ring of flesh beneath his balls. The informant shudders, lets out a noise akin to a whine, a sound more than encouraging to Shizuo, who slowly presses one long finger inside of him. 

 

Izaya sees stars for a moment thanks to the slightly painful rush of the finger in his ass and the way his cock is throbbing, desperate for touch. 

 

“N-nice?” Izaya breathes, the fingers above his head curling into fists. He tries to steady himself but he can't, he can focus on anything but the curl of Shizuo’s finger, the weight of his hand over his wrists and the warmth of his breath. “Can't play nice with you Sh-Shizu-chan.” 

 

“Hmm, okay. Well then I guess you won't be getting any relief from me tonight,” Shizuo murmurs. He leans down and places his lips next to Izaya’s eat so that he can lowly hiss. As he speaks he twists his finger and rubs, hitting a sensitive spot that makes Izaya cry out. He holds his touch there, rubbing in gentle circles that make the informant’s vision cloud. “And we both know your own hands are  _ nothing _ compared to what I can do to you.” 

 

With that, Shizuo removes his hands from Izaya entirely and pushes himself off the floor. The dazed informant slowly comes to and scowls when he hears the other man is  _ whistling _ . His clothes are thrown across his stomach and when he looks up he sees the blond grinning - he wants to smack that stupid look off his face but his body isn't playing ball right now. 

 

“I swear to God, Shizu-chan, if you don't get back on your knees and fuck the living daylights out of me I’ll-”

 

“You’ll what?” Shizuo interrupts, coyly. He opens one of his hands and there in the palm sits a familiar switchblade. The blond laughs at the way Izaya’s mouth drops. “Stab me with this? I already took it out of your coat pocket, flea.” 

 

“Fuck you!”

 

“You gonna promise?”

 

“I repeat: fuck you!”

 

The blond turns on his heel and goes out onto the balcony to smoke, listening happily to Izaya’s angry hisses. He predicts repeating this four or five times before Izaya relents. With a dark grin, he looks up at the evening sky and raises a cigarette to his lips, thinking  _ life is good.  _

 

 


End file.
